


For The Man Who Has Everything

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Friendship, Gen, Male Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4101283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard needs help and Spock, surprisingly, provides it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For The Man Who Has Everything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [storry_eyed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storry_eyed/gifts).



> This story is written for the Star Trek Friendshipfest 2015 and my recipient is storry_eyed; the friendship I wrote for is also one of those I offered in my initial sign-up - Leonard McCoy and Spock. 
> 
> This also marks the first Star Trek fic I‘ve written in two years; STID unfortunately killed my Star Trek muse stone cold dead in its tracks after I saw the film at the cinema; I was hoping that this Friendshipfest would encourage me to start doing more Star Trek related stuff again. 
> 
> I did not know what you liked or wanted, storry-eyed, so I really hope you like what I’ve written.

Leonard settled himself down behind his desk with a loud groan; every part of his body ached, even in places he hadn’t known previously existed or gave much thought to. He rested one elbow upon the desk and leant upon it heavily, as he scrubbed tired fingers across equally tired eyes. He yawned loudly, and considered retiring from his shift a little early; the last few hours had been spectacularly busy with the entire staff on his shift running pell-mell to patch wounds and stitch broken bones together and even re-attach a hand in one poor devil’s case. Leonard had no idea what debacle Jim had set off on his latest jag down to whatever Class M planet the Enterprise was currently orbiting, but Leonard was currently grateful that a lost hand was only the worst of it. At least no one had died. 

A slight noise at the door to his office attracted his attention, yet he did not take his hand from his eyes, at least immediately; instead, he sighed gustily and gave his eyes an extra scrub before dropping his hand to the surface of his desk with a loud thump. He almost groaned again when he saw the morose form of Spock filling up the doorway, serious expression firmly in place and one eyebrow arched as though the Vulcan had somehow caught on Leonard’s near-expulsion of grumpy breath.

“What is it, Spock?” Leonard asked, unable to keep the irritation from his voice, even if he had managed to stop the groan from escaping his lips. “I’m almost at the end of my shift. If you have any more damned patients, they’ll have to wait for M’Benga.” 

“I can assure you, Doctor, that I have no such patients waiting for you,” Spock replied, as calmly as ever, eyebrow raised a slight degree higher than usual. 

He did not immediately expand on exactly why he was there, however. Leonard frowned at the Vulcan and waited, but still Spock did not speak.

“Well? I’m a doctor, not a mind-reader, damnit. Are you gonna lurk and clutter up my damn doorway or are you gonna tell me what you want, already?” he asked, as he leant back in his chair heftily. “I haven’t got all day.” 

The chair groaned a little with the transference of his weight.

“I didn’t once believe that you did have all day, Doctor,” Spock said, calmly, as he finally moved into the office and took the chair opposite Leonard without invitation. 

Leonard almost laughed at that; Spock felt more comfortable in his office than Leonard himself did, apparently. The doctor much preferred being out with the patients, even though he’d often been told that his bedside manner left much to be desired. He raised one eyebrow at Spock, an unconscious mirror of the Vulcan’s trademark expression. 

“Fascinating,” Spock said, though quite what he was referring to, Leonard wasn’t entirely sure.

He wasn’t very good at guessing at Spock’s motives at the best of times. 

“You still haven’t told me you’re here,” Leonard prompted. 

“I was wondering if you felt quite alright, Doctor,” Spock started quietly, as he leant forward, to press his own elbows against the flat of the table, steepling his fingers pensively below his nose. 

Leonard blinked at the Vulcan in sudden confusion. 

“Never better, I can assure you,” Leonard finally said, when it seemed as though Spock was serious and waiting for an answer. “I don’t know what made you think I was ill in any way.”

“I never actually once stated that you were ill,” Spock said. 

“You did, you pointy-eared bastard. You blatantly asked if I was alright. What was I supposed to think other than that you were implying that I was ill?” Leonard pointed out. 

“I did not mean to imply that. I merely had noticed that you were imbibing a lot more alcohol of late,” Spock said. 

“Imbibing? Care to put that into English?” Leonard asked, before he swiftly waved away Spock’s inevitable explanation with a swiftly raised hand. “Never mind.” 

He sighed again and rested against the back of his chair again; the chair protested loudly into the silence. Leonard stared up at the ceiling, and he could feel the weight of Spock’s eyes boring into him. He grunted, and knew that there was no way he’d be able to outwait the ever-patient Vulcan. He cast his gaze back down to stare at Spock; as expected, Spock’s eyes were resting upon him still, an impassive, yet still oddly patient, expression upon his face.

“Will you quit staring at me, ya goddamned hobgoblin?” Leonard growled.

“I was not aware that I was even staring, Doctor,” Spock pointed out. “I was merely waiting for a response.” 

“Response to what? I wasn’t even aware that you’d asked me anything,” Leonard replied, and finally he stood, to pace around the table and rest upon the edge of it, directly beside where Spock still sat, straight-backed and as rigid as ever. 

“I can assure you that I did. I asked after your health,” Spock reminded him. 

“I’m a doctor. I should be asking you that,” Leonard pointed out, yet at least his sudden grin was genuine. “And I’m fine. Never been better.” 

“Then why should you feel the need to drink more?” Spock asked. “I was under the impression that humans did so, under times of sadness, stress or worry. I cannot perceive that you are particularly sad, so it cannot be that. Are you stressed or worried, Leonard?” 

Leonard’s eyebrows rose at that, before he cast a glance away from Spock, to stare blindly at the far wall. 

“Damn you and your goddamned perceptive abilities, Spock,” Leonard growled. 

“Fascinating,” Spock said, before he fell blissfully silent.

Leonard turned over Spock’s words in his mind; he should not have been surprised at all that Spock, the most perceptive bastard aboard the Enterprise, should have guessed that Leonard was worried, when all else had easily missed that fact. Even Jim, who usually was good at picking up on things that bothered the members of his crew, had missed it; then again, Leonard had to concede, that Jim had been distracted of late, with various high-brow missions and appearances from high-up officials in Starfleet showing interest in what was, essentially, fast becoming the flagship of the entire ‘Fleet. Jim’s priorities, in other words, were elsewhere, and Leonard knew, better than anyone, that oftentimes, the most profound and obvious things could easily be missed when such things were right under one’s nose. 

Leonard blew out a ragged sigh; he felt the vibrations of it against his narrow chest, before he cast a wry grin upon Spock, who still, as expected, was waiting patiently beside him. 

“Okay, ya got me,” Leonard growled. “It’s Jim, isn’t it? Or, more specifically, his birthday.” 

“His birthday?” Spock asked, with one raised eyebrow, his only concession to surprise, or whatever passed for surprise in a Vulcan. 

“Yeah, birthday. You have those on Vulcan, don’t ya?” Leonard asked, with a roll of his eyes. 

“In a sense, of course, but I think we may celebrate the occasion far differently than do humans,” Spock pointed out. 

“You would,” Leonard grunted. 

“And what is so worrisome about Jim’s birthday, might I ask?” Spock asked.

“You might ask, and I believe you just did,” Leonard said. “I dunno what to get him, is all.”

“And that poses you some worry, does it?” Spock asked, and Leonard almost thought a flicker of a frown crossed the Vulcan’s face at that. 

“Wouldn't it worry you? Of course it wouldn’t. Forget I asked that,” Leonard grunted. “I mean, what do you get the one man who has everything?”

“I don’t believe that that is scientifically or logically possible, Doctor,” Spock said. “No one can have everything.” 

“The Enterprise, man, the Enterprise. It is Jim we’re talking about,” Leonard pointed out, as he turned a sudden scowl upon Spock. 

Most people who knew Jim also knew that the Enterprise was everything to the captain, coming before almost everything else except for perhaps his friends, and Leonard wasn’t certain even about that, most of the time. 

“Of course,” Spock conceded, with a graceful nod of his head. “Might I suggest purchasing a book for the captain? You know how he collects books.”

“Yeah, now why didn’t I think of that, Spock?” Leonard asked, sarcastically. “I really wouldn’t have thought of that on my own.” 

“Really?” Spock asked, flatly, but the question sounded more like a statement to Leonard. 

“Of course I thought of that. Again, this is Jim, we’re talking about. I don’t know what book he doesn’t have,” Leonard said. “ I can’t ask the man; I’ll give the damned game away if I all out asked him, wouldn't I?” 

“Might you permit me to perhaps make a suggestion?” Spock said.

“What? You’re honestly telling me that you actually know of something?” Leonard asked, sceptically. “Why aren’t you giving Jim the damn book yourself, more importantly?” 

“Because I can always give him something else,” Spock said, serenely. “Unlike you, apparently, I am not lacking in a dearth of ideas.”

“Dearth of ideas. My God,” Leonard said, with a snort. “Let’s hear your damned idea, then, Spock, seeing as you think you have one.”

Spock merely nodded, before he finally told Leonard his idea.

:::

**two weeks later**   


“Oh, a gift. Bones, you shouldn’t have,” Jim said, loudly, even as he took the gift wrapped present from Leonard’s hands. 

Leonard didn’t point out the obvious that Jim had still accepted the gift despite his protestations; instead, he sipped at his bourbon and reflected on the surprise he’d been harbouring since Spock had first told him about the book. That the Vulcan showed such overtures of friendship at a time when Leonard really needed it was an endless source of fascination for Leonard, even though it was not the first, nor would it be the last, time that it happened. 

“What is it?” Jim asked, even as he began to unwrap the gift.

“Well, that kinda negates the actual opening of it, if I’m just gonna all-out tell ya, Jim,” Leonard pointed out, wryly. 

Jim merely grinned at the doctor, before he finished ripping the paper from the surface of the book. 

“Bones, I don't know what to tell you,” Jim said, as he stared in shock at the book in his hand. 

“Well, a _‘Thank you, Bones‘,_ and _‘It’s perfect, Bones’_ and _‘it's just what I wanted, Bones’_ , would be a start, Jim,” Leonard pointed out.

“How did you know I was looking for a complete copy of Faust?” Jim asked, as he pulled the remainder of the paper away.

Leonard took a moment to answer, as he stared once more at the hardback book held reverently within Jim's hands; that book had been quite the devil to find, in Leonard's opinion. Not only was it hard to find both parts of Faust in a single volume, but it was even harder these days to find it in the original German. 

“Let’s just say some pointy-eared devil told me,” Leonard finally said. 

Jim grinned immediately, before he said - “Spock.”

Leonard merely raised one eyebrow in a close approximation of Spock’s own gesture, which made Jim laugh all the more.

“Just out of curiosity, Jim, what did Spock get you?” Leonard asked. 

“A complete set of the works of Rilke,” Jim replied, a little absent-mindedly. 

His attentions, after all, were no longer on the doctor; they were firmly resting upon the now open book he held in his hands.

“Hmm,” Leonard said, with a lift of his eyebrows. 

“Fascinating,” Jim finished for him, as he cast a sudden grin up at Leonard. “I know.” 

Leonard, at least, grinned at that before he lifted his shot of bourbon in Jim’s direction.

“Happy birthday, Jim,” he said, with a grin at his friend and captain.


End file.
